


Missing Rory

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Season/Series 07, Spoilers, post-TATM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even telepathic timelords sometimes have trouble communicating. And even timeladies need their daddies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Rory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrinneyFriday/gifts), [inaboxonacloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inaboxonacloud/gifts), [kingstonmcbride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingstonmcbride/gifts).



River Song missed her father.

Oh, she missed her mother too, but Rory... she felt herself choke up at the thought... Rory had been special.

And _yes_ , she knew that he was still alive back then, in New York in the early-twentieth. But she didn’t care, because it wasn’t like she could get to him, was it?

Her beloved... he was only just now beginning to come out of the months-long funk her parents’ - his friends’ - removal into the past had caused. And even now he occasionally flew into a masonry-destroying rage.

So River Song needed an outlet, something constructive to do, something to remind her of her father. She contemplated blowing something up for a while, but decided that Rory would not have approved.

“Sweetie,” she said to her husband, “Let’s go to ancient Rome.”

The Doctor never looked up from whatever he was tinkering with under the console. “I’ve been,” he said shortly, and River’s shoulders sagged.

“Right,” she said, dully, and turned to go up the stairs. She was fighting tears, but she’d be _damned_ if she’d let him see that. _No damage, show no damage_. Lovely, now her mind was mocking her. She heard a scrambling noise behind her as she marched up the stairs, heels clicking, but she ignored it. Until he spoke her name.

“River.” Oh bless, the _pain_ in his voice; it was unbearable. River stopped, but she did not turn around. _Show no damage_. He sounded so _tired_ , utterly bereft, and her hearts ached for him. But she mustn’t show him her damage; he’d... he wouldn’t be able to cope.

Not that it sounded as though he was coping _now_.

So she just stood, shoulders hunched, waiting for him to say something, do something, _anything_... just so they wouldn’t continue to live in the state they’d been in for months, with her uneasy and him uncharacteristically quiet and still. There was nothing from him behind her but _silence_... and as she thought the word she couldn’t keep a shudder from wracking her frame.

And then his long, lanky arms went around her shoulders and he hauled her to him, turning her at the same time so that he could embrace her properly. He was so hesitant about touching her these days, as though he was afraid he would hurt her, or... or something. She didn’t know what. But the hug - in spite of the hesitancy with which it was offered - was simply the last straw, and River Song burst into tears.

\--/--

The Doctor swung gently in his repair sling, tinkering with bits under the console that didn’t really need tinkering with. He heard River’s footsteps overhead, the distinctive clicking sound her heels made on the transparent floor, and flinched.

He’d asked her to stay with him, because he needed her, and she had agreed, but...

But they didn’t _do_ anything. Didn’t talk, didn’t make love, didn’t run. He _missed_ her, his beautiful, mad, impossible River Song... oh, she was there in _body_ , but her essence - the spark that made her _his_ River - it was... dormant. He had thought at first she was simply missing her parents, but well... he was afraid to ask, afraid to touch... because the last time he had tried to help her... he didn’t blame her, but he didn’t want that again.

She didn’t need him. It was that simple. River Song did not need the Doctor; she was just biding her time until she could safely pass her problem child off to someone else. Without risking blowing up a solar system or something. And being remarkably polite - for her - while she did it. So when she came down the stairs around the console, he ignored her. No sense in forcing her to interact with him, not when she didn’t want to be there.

“Sweetie,” River said, “Let’s go to ancient Rome.”

 _Sure_ , he thought, _Ancient Rome_. She probably felt that if they _had_ to be together until he could cope, they may as well have other people around, open spaces, not closed up in a TARDIS with a tired old man. “I’ve been,” he said shortly, and listened to her retreat.

 _(stupid time lord)_ said a familiar voice in the back of his mind, _(she needs)_

And all at once he realised that he _wanted_ to go to ancient Rome with her, he wanted to go anywhere, _everywhere_ with River Song, if only it would bring the River he knew and loved back to him. He scrambled out of the sling and followed her up the stairs. “River...” he said, and his voice was hoarse from the lump in his throat and she stopped. But she didn’t turn around. She just _stood_ there, her back to him, and then suddenly she shuddered all over as though she was afraid. He couldn’t help himself, didn’t care whether she wanted his help or not; he reached out and turned her to him, enfolding her in his arms. And she burst into tears.

\--/--

They stood there for a long time, arms around one another, each drawing strength from the other, and at last River sighed and stepped back. “I’m s--” but the Doctor interrupted her with one finger to her lips.

“Me too,” he said simply, and ran his hand along her skin to her hand, tugged her toward the bedroom.

She resisted. “My love, you know I’ll always... but it’s not about sex...”

“I know.” He smiled and tugged harder, and she let herself be pulled along this time. They sat together on the bed and he tugged her hand some more until they were lying across it, facing each other. “Now then,” he said quietly, “Talk to me.”

“I... I _can’t_...” she said, and buried her face in the curve of his neck. “It’s stupid.” Her voice was muffled by his skin, but he could hear it, feel it in his very bones, and he felt his hearts contract.

“River, you are impetuous, arrogant, and often rude. You are never stupid.” His hearts contracted with pain for her. “River. Tell me. Please.”

“Iwantmyfather,” she said, quickly and in a tiny voice, and he thought his hearts might break this time. His arms tightened around her of their own volition and he stroked her curls.

“I only wish I could take you to him, my River,” he whispered. “But that’s not stupid. Not in the slightest...” He sighed. “I miss him too.”

River’s head came up and she looked at him oddly. “I thought... I thought it was all about Amy for you... you’re so close, and I...” She trailed off. He was shaking his head at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “What?”

“I loved Amy, River. More than I can properly say. But Rory... I _needed_ him; he kept me... stable, sane. He was my brother in all but name, and my... my human conscience and _oh_ I miss him. So much, my River.” He took her hand, the one he’d healed, and kissed it again as he had that day. “And I can’t imagine,” he went on in a quiet voice that was infinitely sad, “I can’t imagine how much his loss hurt _you_.” He took her into his arms again and buried his face in her hair. He felt her tremble, and when she spoke, her voice was high and pained, not at all her usual throaty purr.

“He always asked me if I was okay,” River said. “Even when he was angry with me and he didn’t know who I was... he asked if I was okay. Ever since we were all children together in Leadworth, he was always the one who looked after me. I...” she broke off on a sob and the Doctor hugged her tighter.

“Hence ancient Rome?” he asked gently. “He won’t be there.”

She sighed. “I know. But I thought I could be... close to him there.”

“Right then. Ancient Rome it is, my River. Or anywhere, anywhen else you want to go. Just...”

“Just what?”

“Please... let’s not forget... this,” he waved a hand to indicate them both. “Please don’t forget that I can look after you as you do me. Probably not as well as your father could, but I--”

He broke off as she kissed him. “I’ll try. And I... I’m sorry. So sorry, my love...” He looked at her, wondering what she had done to be sorry for, and she looked away. “I... the last time you tried to look after me, I... I shouted at you and I slapped you, and... I _hurt_ you.” He was shaking his head _no, you hadn’t hurt me, truly, River, no_. “I _did_ ,” she insisted, “I saw your face, my love; I hurt your _hearts_. And I am so, so _sorry_.” She took a deep and shaky breath and spoke again in a tiny voice. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh, _River_. I forgave you before the sting from the slap faded. ‘Always and completely’ means exactly that, my River. _Always_. Completely.” He took her hands in his, and she kissed him long and slow. When they came up for air, he spoke again. “And now, my River, ancient Rome?”

River shook her head. “No need anymore,” she said. “Can we let Sexy choose? Go where she thinks we’re needed?”

“Of course. You watch us run.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
